Eliesmore, keeping an eye on her, crawled closer to the tree until he could hear the exchange properly. He wondered who she was talking to. A squirrel? A bird? He couldn’t imagine why she would take the trouble to climb a tree to speak to an animal.
“Go away,” a creature replied to Glashar; its tone was hostile and forceful.
The words were almost visible, sharp as a pointed sword, driving into Glashar. He could see her petite frame perched on a tree branch. Her legs swung free as she held on to a twig with one hand. Although her face was hidden, he could tell she was angry by the way her shoulders hunched forward. “We are only passing through; we will not bother your tribe.”
“You are trespassing on our land. Get out!”
“I will wake my companions, and we will leave. You have my word.”
“No, you will leave now. We detest people. The very sight of you makes our eyes hurt. Go a different route that is not through our land.”
Eliesmore determined the person responding to Glashar was a female, but he could not see her.
“You have my word,” Glashar went on. “I will return to the ground, wake my companions, and we will leave you in peace. Will those terms be agreeable?”
A hush came over the treetops as if the creatures were considering. There was a hasty chatter, and Eliesmore saw the branches flutter and shake as if tiny animals were climbing through them. He was puzzled as to why he couldn’t see them.
“Agreed,” the spiteful reply came.
“I thank you.” Glashar turned to climb down.
A buzzing sound sprayed the air, and a dark form landed on the branch beside Glashar. “Glashar. Wodnidrains!” Visra shirked in glee.
Glashar arched her back and hissed, either in surprise or anger, Eliesmore wasn’t sure which. Her eyes settled on Visra, begging her to shut up. “We just made a deal.”
Visra threw back her head and gave a harsh laugh. “A deal? You can’t make a deal with the little devils.”
“It is the enemy!” a Wodnidrain (Eliesmore assumed) cried. “Rally! Rally!”
The call of a horn blasted through the leaves that began to shudder and shake when a large number of voices took up the cry.
“See what you’ve done!” Glashar spun to Visra in a fury.
Visra snickered and lifted off, drawing her bow and arrow. “Oops, looks like we have to fight them.”
Eliesmore crawled away from the tree. “Wake up,” he shouted to his companions. “The Wodnidrains are assailing us!”
Dathiem walked up from behind a bush. His bow was slung on his back. “Wodnidrains? In these parts?” Optimistic stumbled behind him.
“Yes, look!” Eliesmore cried, pointing to the tree where Glashar and Visra were still arguing.
Arldrine appeared with her hands on her hips. She glanced at the tree in displeasure. “What do they think they are doing? You can’t negotiate with Wodnidrains.”
“We should be going,” Idrithar called, reminding them to get moving instead of staring.
“Going? Now? But we haven’t eaten yet,” Wekin protested as he picked up his pack.
“You will have to learn there are more important things than eating on this journey, Wekin.” Idrithar frowned at him.
Wekin stuck out his lower lip, caught Yamier’s eye, and gave a deep sigh.
“Seftisws, I wonder where Fastshed and his company have gotten to.” Zhane peered at their surroundings; the white horses were nowhere to be found.
“This way.” Dathiem pointed, striding through the trees.
Eliesmore fell in step with Zhane, noticing no one seemed to be as concerned about the Wodnidrains as he was. “What was that word you just said? It didn’t sound like the common tongue,” he asked
“It’s the language of the Iaen.” Zhane shrugged. “It comes so naturally now that I often forget I am speaking a different tongue.”
“I would like to learn it,” Eliesmore said tentatively.
Zhane paused, glancing down at Eliesmore before nodding in agreement. “So you shall.”
He said nothing more so Eliesmore turned to Optimistic. He was unusually quiet; his lips were closed tight. “How is your wound?” Eliesmore ventured, regretting the question the moment it escaped his lips.
Optimistic blinked, a streak of agony piercing his face. “It wasn’t deep. Thanks to Dathiem’s healing skills, it barely hurts now.” He shrugged.
“Oh…” The look on Optimistic’s face discouraged further conversation.
As they strode out of the sparse wood, they found Fastshed and company standing in a circle with their heads down. At first, Eliesmore thought they were grazing, but as he watched them, he saw they weren’t moving.
“What’s wrong?” he asked Zhane.
Zhane waved his hand, motioning for the others to halt as he and Dathiem walked forward to join the circle of horses.
Eliesmore counted, and there were only nine. He felt his heart sink. What happened to the other two White Steeds? He felt cold and glanced over his shoulder, searching for the enemies of darkness that had come to steal away his peace. Idrithar strode past; his face was an impassive mask. “Those who are lost remain lost,” he muttered.
“This is a great loss indeed,” Arldrine said. She moved between Eliesmore and Optimistic. “We should grieve with them.” She led them up to the circle of white horses.
Placing their hands on the horses’ backs, the Green Company stood in silence; they let the memory of their lost comrades sink in.
Eliesmore shifted, realizing he’d never known the names of the lost horses. He wanted to walk away from the moment of silence, feeling guilt rise up. It was his fault, after all, that the horses were dead. Killed. The Rakhai were after him. Perhaps it would be better if he and Optimistic slunk away. Even as he thought it, Eliesmore knew he was too selfish to do anything other than follow the Green Company. He had no idea where they were nor where they were going. He assumed west toward the sea. How would they cross it? What mysteries lay on the other side? He wanted to leave and move onward without waiting for the company to grieve. It seemed an eternity until Fastshed lifted his head and told Idrithar he was ready to move on. Eliesmore turned away; he was the first to break the circle as he searched for Flywinger. Walking up to the giant stallion, he smiled. “Hello, Flywinger. I’m glad you’re safe.” Even as the words came out of his mouth, they felt wrong.
Flywinger tossed his mane. “Eliesmore.”
Dathiem walked up to distract him; a frown was centered between his brows. "Here, I'll give you a leg up." He bent his knee and cupped his hands. Dathiem’s dark brown hair had been braided back, and Eliesmore could see shades of red as the sunlight hit it. Feeling intimidated, he accepted Dathiem’s help and settled onto Flywinger’s back. He opened his mouth to express his thanks, but the words were stuck in his throat.
"Optimistic." Dathiem spun, not one for small talk. "Come. Ride with me."
Eliesmore saw Glashar out of the corner of his eye. She was scowling with her arms crossed before Ellagine tapped her on the shoulder. She nodded, still eyeing Dathiem and Optimistic. Eliesmore sighed. The attack of the Rakhai had damped their spirits; he could see the dejection in the way the Green Company moved. It was folly to think he could do this. One day out, and they’d already been chased, lost two companions, and morale was low. If this was the way the quest was going to go, he wanted to escape. His head ached with thoughts as they surged forward. Seconds later, a shot of pain slammed into his forehead.
Lifting a hand, he prodded the tender skin on his head. His hand came away with only one drop of blood. He reached up again, feeling something wedged into his skin. Gritting his teeth, he pulled it out with a grunt, surprised to find himself holding a thorn. He glanced around. Who was hurling thorns at him? He tried to catch a glimpse of Visra or Yamier and Wekin. The usual suspects were nowhere in his vicinity.
“Wodnidrains!” Idrithar’s deep voice boomed from ahead. “Gallop!”
Fastshed and company leap
ed forward. Their hooves gained speed as they moved from a trot into an all out gallop. Eliesmore heard a screech, and looking up, he caught a glimpse of a miniature creature. Instantly, he was reminded of his time dancing with the creatures of the wood, where tiny creatures in the trees were not impossible to believe in. Though back then he’d never seen creatures such as these. They were about twelve inches tall with long black hair cascading down their backs. Coal black eyes stared out of heart-shaped faces; thorn-tipped arrows hurled into Eliesmore’s body as they lifted their bows. Despite himself, he shrieked.
“Aiii, get them!” a high-pitched voice screamed.
Eliesmore ducked as a volley of arrows rained down on him and his companions.
“Pull your hoods up, and watch your heads,” Zhane ordered.
“Revenge!” shrieked Visra.
“Try not to kill them,” Ellagine called, a hint of impatience in her voice. “They are not the enemy.”
Eliesmore bent low over Flywinger, pulling more thorns out of his back and shoulders. The tiny creatures were relentless; they hopped from treetop to treetop, easily keeping pace with the Green Company. At one point, a horse went down, tossing its riders into a clump of trees. Eliesmore glanced back to see Arldrine emerge, screaming obscenities up to the trees as she attempted to shield her face from the arrows. Impatiently, she raised her bow, and an arrow shattered the treetops.
Eliesmore gulped and looked away, wondering if his companions were all warriors without control. He recalled Visra waving her sword and Ellagine slamming balls of green fire into the Monrage without stopping. If it came to all out war, it seemed they would let their bloodlust control them instead of their minds. Would he be like them? A warrior without control seeking to kill and destroy? Didn’t they endeavor to prevent the onslaught of death and destruction? It seemed the world had fallen into a lack of respect for life, and he began to realize he knew very little about the companions he traveled with. He was the outsider.
Just as he thought they were ridding themselves of the Wodnidrains, he heard a buzzing close to his ear. “Don’t move, or I will shoot your ear off,” the voice squeaked.
It reminded him of a mouse, singing shrilly in the glade of the creatures of the wood. He sat as still as he could on Flywinger’s back, although the motion of galloping forced his body to rock forward.
“I have a message,” the squeaking continued. “Your presence is requested in Daygone. The Dark One would like to speak with you. Go to Daygone.”
The buzzing ceased, and just when Eliesmore thought it was safe to look around, an arrow slammed into his neck. He heard a tiny laugh as the Wodnidrain dashed away, chortling over her shoulder at him.
Eliesmore felt his eyes water as he reached up, biting his lip to keep from crying out as he withdrew the thorn from his neck. He tossed it beneath Flywinger’s pounding hooves. Of course the Dark One wanted a word with him. He likely wanted to kill him and take the Green Stone. He would never go to Daygone.
After the message was the delivered, the Wodnidrains ceased shooting arrows, or perhaps they ran out of thorns. The trees turned into thinner saplings, and the Green Company rode forward into the rolling hills of Sanga San. The hills were steep, almost shooting straight up in sharp angles. The horses slowed to a stop at the sight of them. Idrithar held up a hand and dismounted, allowing Zhane and Dathiem to join him. There was a brief discussion with Fastshed and much pointing at the hills. At last, Idrithar turned around and announced: “These are the Sanga San hills. We will walk for a while.”
“Walk!” Wekin exclaimed. “It will slow us down considerably!”
“Yes, Wekin,” Idrithar replied. “Fastshed and his company are already tired. They don’t need to carry us up those hills and down again.”
“Can they carry our packs?” Yamier piped up.
“Why don’t you ask them? They have tongues,” Zhane suggested.
Yamier looked a little timid about asking the horses as he dismounted, so Wekin, of course, did it for him. Eliesmore laughed quietly to himself.
Once everyone had dismounted and tied their packs securely to Fastshed and his company, they started up the hill. The incline was steep, so they went slowly, nearly crawling up the hill at times.
“I wish this hill weren’t so steep. I hope in the Sandg Sizge Hills we won’t be climbing up and down hills,” Wekin complained.
“Well, at least this isn’t the Cascade Mountain Range,” Optimistic said cheerfully.
Wekin gave Optimistic an irritated look. “Yes, but those are mountains. These are supposed to be hills!”
“You’re just having a hard time because you can’t float.” Glashar laughed as she and Visra walked up the hill effortlessly.
“And we’re short,” Yamier said disgustedly.
“I wish I were a tall Cron, like Idrithar,” Wekin grumbled, sighing loudly as he slowly climbed uphill.
“Don’t feel sorry for yourself. I’m only as tall as you are,” Arldrine said. “Besides,” she whispered mischievously, “Optimistic and Eliesmore are shorter.”
“Oh,” Wekin said, at a loss for words. “Well…”
Arldrine smiled and nodded. “That’s right, Wekin. It’s best not to say anymore.”
Wekin looked to Yamier for support. Yamier, who was not feeling sympathetic, just laughed.
When they got to the top of the steep hill, Eliesmore found his side was hurting, and even Optimistic looked uncomfortable. Glashar and Visra were already walking down the hill as if gravity were not a problem for them. Idrithar, Zhane, Dathiem, and Ellagine scouted out the territory before slowly and carefully heading down. At last, the five shorter ones came huffing and puffing their way up, only to stare at dismay at the long, everlasting sight of hills running onward.
“Oh no.” Wekin shook his head. “This is not happening; I am too tired to walk another step.” And he promptly squatted down at the top of the hill to catch his breath.
“You’ll have to,” Arldrine said, starting down with Optimistic and Eliesmore trudging at her heels.
Yamier nudged Wekin, upsetting his balance. With a yell, Wekin fell forward, arms flying in the air. He snatched at Yamier, and the two fell headlong, rolling down the hill. They crashed into Arldrine, Optimistic, and Eliesmore with such force that all five of them continued down the endless slope with nothing to make them stop. They crashed into Idrithar, Zhane, Dathiem, and Ellagine, who managed to stay on their feet. Glashar and Visra had already reached the bottom and barely missed getting hit by the mess of flying feet, shouts, moans, and groans.
Zhane was laughing as he ran down to help everyone up. “Next time, Wekin, don’t sit so precariously at the edge of the hill.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Wekin complained. “Yamier pushed me.”
“Next time, think a little before you act, Yamier and Wekin,” Idrithar advised.
A moment later, Fastshed and company appeared at the top of the hill asking, “What happened?”
The sunlight faded out of the sky, and as the time for the last meal passed, Zhane stood on top of one of the hills and surveyed the landscape. “We stop here,” he announced. “There are no more hills, and tomorrow we shall have to pass through a small village. We camp between the hills tonight.”
Yamier collapsed. “I’m glad. I’m so tired,” he said as he curled up to go to sleep.
The others sat down while Wekin sat staring up at the last hill. “What about going on to the village? We could find an inn with warm beds and good, hot food,” he suggested dreamily.
“No, we will not go to the inn,” Idrithar said. “You talk too much, and you will tell everyone where we are going and what we are doing. We will sleep on the hard ground and eat cold food. There will be no fires tonight.”
Wekin lay back and looked up at the stars. He turned to Yamier, and Eliesmore heard him whisper, “We need some bacon. If we had bacon, everything would be better.”
Eliesmore leaned back against the hill between Optimistic and Y
amier. “How is your wound?” he asked Optimistic.
“Better, much better, although I can feel it when I trek up and downhill,” Optimistic said soberly. “Now I know how you felt, except yours is much worse. You know the Rakhai are very angry; they will do anything to get the Green Stone, to kill us, and to keep us from completing the three deeds.”
“I know. I wish they would go away and never come back.” Eliesmore sighed. "They will hunt us to the Constel Heights and back.”
“Well, at least they aren’t hunting us, and we can rest,” Optimistic said.
“Yes, that’s right,” Eliesmore replied, closing his eyes.
39
Dathiem
Dathiem perched on the crest of a rolling hillside, watching the flurry of activity below him as the Green Company set up camp. He felt someone come up beside him and knew it was Zhane without looking. The two of them had an easy friendship, sharing the bonds of adventure and the connection that came from being from the same people group: Tiders. Zhane sighed as he sat down beside Dathiem. “All clear?”
“Aye.” Dathiem nodded. “I would not expect an open attack here in the Eastern Hill Countries.”
“Nay. That kind of destruction belongs in the west. If the Black Horse Lords ride this way, we’ll spot them from afar.” Zhane lapsed off, his eyes drawn back to the camp.
Dathiem followed Zhane’s gaze, seeing where it landed. He paused before speaking his mind, unsure if he were crossing unspoken boundaries. “You’re in love with Arldrine, aren’t you?” It came out more as a statement than a question. The words fell from his lips as calmly as noting the sunset.
Zhane jerked around to face Dathiem; his eyes were narrow and cautious. “What makes you say that?”
“You watch, yet you don’t speak to her. It’s as if the two of you are dancing a wary dance of silence. Who will be the first to confess?” Dathiem lips curled for a moment. “I know. I feel the same way about Glashar.”
The Complete Four Worlds Series Page 85